Priceless
by dumbass abandoned account
Summary: Bolin is a government employee who strives to be a member of Republic City's highly respected and nearly exclusive military. Korra is a thief in hiding. His affiliation with her could cost him his career as well as his dreams. Borra.


It is late into the night when Bolin finally finishes his work with Tenzin. He is serving his time as a government employee in the hopes that one day, he may join the military. He is still young, 18, and not many recruits who attempt to enlist under Lin Beifong make the cut. He tells himself every late night he works that the 6 hours of sleep he gets will one day be worth it. He dreams of being on the front lines, hurling boulders at equalists, but for now his place is in an uncomfortable steel chair beside Tenzin as he takes down information for court records.

The council room is drafty but still sweat beads his brow. He has been sitting in this seat for hours as criminal after criminal is introduced, sworn to an oath of honesty, and defends themselves. It is impossible to know how long a trial will be or when his next break will arrive. Bolin used to find them interesting but now it seems like it's the same offense, same excuse, but different people.

But finally, at just after midnight, the last juror reaches a unanimous verdict, Tenzin's gavel comes down, and the case is dismissed. Bolin is out of his seat in a flash, grabbing his coat and lunch pail and collecting his papers to drop off in Tenzin's office before Tenzin himself has a chance to thank him for his time and wish him a safe trip home. Perhaps he should have waited around for it.

The cold night air sends a chill up his spine as the wind dries the sweat on his forehead. In his rush to leave and get home Bolin had elected to just carry his things, including his week's pay, instead of stopping to place his belongings in his bag. Mako was most likely fast asleep by now and he had training bright and early at 6:00 am the next morning.

As Bolin runs awkwardly down the street as fast as he can without dropping the things in his arms, he imagines he is running across a grassy plain in a Republic City Military uniform. He pretends he is charging an equalist, his hair blowing wildly in the wind and a battle cry booming past his lips as he jumps, slamming his foot into the ground to create a wave of earth to knock the enemy of their feet. He is careful not to actually bend the pavement he walks on, and he keeps his cries to a barely audible whisper even though nobody is actually around to hear him.

He comes back to reality as he rounds a corner and slams into what feels like a brick wall. Bolin drops the things in his arms and stumbles backward, landing roughly on his butt. His face goes red in embarrassment and he groans.

Bolin is dazed and takes a moment to collect himself. A hand comes up to feel his face and finds his nose isn't broken and he lacks any scrapes. Maybe it wasn't a wall after all.

His questions are answered when he hears the sound of bare feet pad across the sidewalk, coming towards him. Bolin sits up and his eyes land on the source of the sound that has stopped before him. Realizing it was a person he had crashed into, he begins to utter a scrambled apology.

"I'm so sorry, I just got off from work and I was on my way home, and…" He looks around at the things on the ground around him. His coat, work schedule, other mundane things are scattered around him, but where is his money?

Bolin's eyes travel upwards slowly and a wave of panic washes over him. The figure he had collided with is counting the missing money in it's hands.

"Hey…" Bolin forces a laugh. "Thanks, you found my money… I don't know what I would do without it." He rises to his feet and carefully reaches out to the person before him, who only sneers. He snatches the wad of cash out of Bolin's reach.

"Me neither. Too bad it isn't my problem. Thanks for the donation."

Bolin is mortified and his face shows it. The person before him laughs a snide laugh and pockets the money with one hand, the other coming to rest on a blade sheathed at his side. "You're not thinking about changing your mind, are you?"

Bolin's ears and cheeks go red, and his hands clench into fists, but there is nothing he can do. As a government employee he is prohibited from any form of vigilante justice and must go through the process officially through the Republic City Police Department. Any misconduct costs him his job and makes him ineligible for the military.

"See," his assailant begins, "I could tell from the moment your back end hit the ground that you had to be carrying some massive yuans."

For emphasis, the thief licks his finger and thumbs through the cash. "How could anybody miss that getup of yours? You're obviously someone important."

Bolin makes a mental note to change out of uniform before leaving the city building late at night.

He takes a stance and his eyes flare. He's hungry, and his rent was due last week, not to mention he has outstanding fees at the arena. There is too much at stake.

The thief laughs and shakes his head. A powerful smell of alcohol fills the air between them and Bolin's nose wrinkles.

"We both know that you're not gonna do anything about this. Even if you are a bender, you don't want to lose that cushy job of yours, do you?"

Bolin lowers his fists and feels his whole body shake with rage. It takes all he has to not send a wave of gravel in the mugger's direction.

Bolin's heart is racing as his mind goes in a million directions at once. How will he and his brother pay their bills? Buy their food? Rent the arena? Mako has a job but it's hard work and he always comes home exhausted and he barely works 30 hours a week…

Defeated, Bolin turns away and stares at his things on the ground. If only he had just taken the time to pack his things away and change out of his uniform. Out of the corner of his eye he can see the robber turn to leave and Bolin, who had no choice but to let him, kneels to begin picking his things up.

The robber freezes just as he leaves Bolin's field of vision and Bolin springs back up to his feet, expecting a surprise attack. His hands are up and his feet are spread in a stance and he is milliseconds away from hurling a rock when he sees what has frozen the criminal in his tracks.

There is a woman standing in front of them.

"Return his money, asshole." She commands. Her voice is unwavering and powerful in the quiet of the night. The hair on the back of Bolin's neck stands on end. She is dressed in red with long, dark hair parted down the middle. She is muscular and her biceps stand out with her arms crossed under her breasts. She wears a look of annoyance on her face. Bolin notes how soft her cheeks look and how blue her eyes are. She's beautiful.

The thief's eyes go wide and he falters, unsure how to react. He tries to play it off and regain control of the situation. "Oh yeah? Or else what, little lady?" He doesn't sound as confident in himself as he did before. Bolin wonders if he had been targeted.

The girl sighs and rubs a headache out of her temples. She takes a step forward and the thief's hand creeps to the blade on his belt. "Or else we're going to have a problem"

A line of sweat trickles down Bolin's face. If she gets hurt protecting him, he may be forced to step in. He watches them both carefully. He's awestruck.

The thief swallows and draws his blade. Bolin holds his breath. The girl's eyes are glued to the hand carrying the sword. They are illegal in Republic City.

Without warning he swings at her and she doesn't miss a beat. Bolin gasps. It all happens so quickly he doesn't have time to move.

As the blade swings the girl is leaning backwards out of its reach, her body parallel to the ground. The man who challenges her is obviously unskilled and the momentum of the swing throws him off balance. With her window of opportunity open the girl grabs the arm holding the sword just under the man's wrist, holding it tightly. Her other arm comes down and strikes the arm she holds and an unsettling crack echoes down the street. The man screams in pain and the sword falls to the ground, clattering.

Bolin's mouth falls open and he realizes he's been standing with his hands in fists, his body language suggesting he's been cheering her on.

"The money, asshole." The mysterious woman barks. Her victim is crying pathetically as he fishes around in the pocket of his grimy coat. He hands her the wad of cash and she counts it. The man doesn't bother picking up his sword as he dismisses himself, breaking out into a run after he gets several feet away.

The girl is panting and her face is red, but the color is slowly fading. She assesses the boy in front of her, looking him over. "You're a government employee…" She observes. Bolin nods.

"Yes."

The girl approaches him but Bolin doesn't go on the defensive. He trusts her, for now. She drops the money at his feet and turns on her heel.

"Wait," He calls, scooping the money up. He holds it against his chest. "At least please tell me your name, miss."

The girl hesitates and turns. "I can't tell you. I'm sorry. Go home. It's late." She turns to face forward again and scoops the sword off the ground and hides it in her coat. "You can't file a police report. You can't tell anyone. I wasn't here." and then she's running around the same corner that Bolin did when he encountered the mugger.

Bolin ignores the rest of his things that lie on the ground and runs around the corner to try and catch her to say goodbye, or to thank her, but when he does the street is empty. She's gone without a trace.


End file.
